Saturday, September 24, 2016

In the Bad Old Days, when spending $150 wasn't something you could do at the spur of the moment from your seat at Fenway Park (unless you flagged down a vendor and bought a couple of hot dogs and three or four beers,) this scene might end with an apology and a "well, I'm at a game and that's what dry cleaners are for" shrug. Or at the very most, a trip to the huge gift shop on Yawkey Way right outside the ballpark for a replacement jersey when the game is over.

Because we live in the Modern World, spilling nachos on the guy next to you means you whip out your phone (oh, who am I kidding, it's already out and you were already scrolling through stuff you were thinking of buying, not like there's a sporting event you paid serious money to watch happening in front of you or anything) and buy him a replacement jersey before he has a chance to even sit back down- "oops sorry I trashed your jersey, but there's another one on the way so don't even respond, ok?"

And never mind that there's no indication that these people know eachother- where is that jersey being sent? Obviously not to the big guy's house, he wasn't asked his address. So are they going to meet up in a few days to finish this really awkward (and ridiculously expensive) transaction made necessary by the apparent conviction that A) The guy whose jersey was damaged is big and therefore he's a humorless jerk and therefore was about to kill the slob who damaged it, stopped only by the assurance that a brand new jersey was on the way, and B) saying "oh, I'm sorry" is simply not adequate in the era of Buy It* Right Now?

*Oh, sorry- "Masterpass It." Yeah, that's going to catch on. Have I told you how much I hate this century?